


Grubbuddies

by GrimmReader



Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Buddies, Childhood, Children, Friendship, Human AU, M/M, too much cake, trolls are human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimmReader/pseuds/GrimmReader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. A bit o' Shounen-Ai tween Johnny boy and his totally not homosexual rival Karkat. Karkat's the new neighbor with a preference for dark things and going around wearing little horns and growling at people, whereas John prances around with a wind sock on his head chasing butterflies. Let's just say a little friendly neighbor rivalry never hurt anyone ^-^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> OK. This is an old fic that I started on FF and never got around to finishing, so I'm going to finish it here! Plus, I'm going to do some MUCH needed editing, now that HS has updated and I feel like I have a better handle on their relationship and how things are going to be working around here. Aside from that, this is the first thing I'm posting on A3O so, it might be a little weird at first while I figure things out. Ok. Show on the road. Here we go.
> 
> Oh, and on FF this part was called Poisoned Butterflies, but the sequel's title kinda screwed things up so I'm changing it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RAWR. I am not liking doing this from my phone >B[  
> The HTML is all wacky and not doing what I want it to do so as soon as ok can get access to a real computer I'll clean this hot mess up real pretty! But, I hope y'all enjoy this anyway!

These days were bright, sparkly even, the sun playfully chased by a breeze that had run off all the clouds and was shuffling the stacked warmth building up between the sky and earth. The grass glistened with the last drops of morning dew, delicate pastel flowers bent softly in the wind, dancing along with the cheerful chirps of the birds swooping and perching in the bosoms of the ornamental trees groomed carefully along the street. Squirrels and the wild brown rabbits sniffled and pranced amongst the green growing between the cozily tucked houses, hiding in the glossy-leafed  bushes and nibbling on the plentiful garden vegetation.

Well-maintained houses, most only one story tall, sat comfortably close to each other, the width between them the span of a grown man's arm, and providing easy access between the houses, where one neighbor could tap on another's window if perhaps they had a polite query as to the handsomely delicious smell emitting from their kitchen. The houses sported similar coats, husky grays  and browns on dull white, giving a very homey, village in the forest  sort of mood. The street formed a cul-de-sac at one end, and seated at the  head of the proverbial table were two out of the ordinary buildings, one slapped with a coat of fresh paint and still smelling faintly of sawdust, the other rooted deep into the ground by years of inhabitance, the mystical sense of antiquity dimming in light of it's new neighbor. Not that it didn't garner as much attention as it's counterpart in terms of outlandishness. No, they were a close match indeed.

The house on the left (viewed from the street of course) shirked all traditional aesthetics compared to its neighbors, and as such was not remotely humble or homey in any manner. Custom-built and finished only a few weeks prior, it now housed a family the neighbors down the street merely referred to as "eccentric". Its rooms were stacked into multiple stories, in odd shapes and design, and came with the popular theme (the only trend it seemed to adopt of its fellows) of sitting directly next to its neighbor, complete with a generous back and front yard which were now filled with dark, poisonous-looking vines and bushes. The house itself was cloaked in a deep, dark, violent shade of crimson. The few small windows that were scattered across its walls were blocked with thick heavy curtains drawn over tightly closed blinds. The stretch of rough, newly paved concrete connecting the rest of the  street to the house's solid black door was not one to be frequently traveled by many different sets of feet, as time would come to tell.

The home on the right fit into every definition of what one would call, "a child's home". Alas, it only raised one, and the family grown there could only be described by its further neighbors as "Eccentric, but not like the other eccentric. Yes, much different." It was humbly stacked into three stories, nearly matching the height of its gloomy neighbor, and painted a different color on each side of the house. The front was a lovely shade of sky-blue, the left side facing the dark house was a passionate pink, the right side a virulent green, and the rear a glowing orange. Several large open windows speckled the sides of the house, pouring light and the friendly inquisitive gazes of the neighbors into its interior. Its gracious lawns were a grand meadow of wildflowers and vegetation fit for quiet forests filled with peaceful wildlife. A single garden gnome surrounded by rainbow pinwheels sat happily to the side of the glass fitted front door on a small porch, bearing an armful of happy critters and wearing a hat the size and general shape of a pumpkin. Many cheery faces greeted this  gnome, for the winding white path of cobbled stones that connected the stained glass door and small porch to the street was one ventured frequently by the community, either for the cakes they would receive on entering or for the sight of the single child's glowing smile and the sound of his ecstatic giggles.

One of the only similarities these two reigning houses held with each other were that they both contained families of three, the single child of each being an impressionable young boy the age of 7.

\-------------------

Karkat grew up hating bright things. Being born with a rare genetic condition, bright lights and neon colors usually gave him massive headaches, which tended to make him severely grumpy. This predisposition mixed with the state of his home life turned out a child set for a war against the world. He was basically created to have a shortened temper cut by the headaches and stress, a horrible state of anti-sociality because of his tendency to stay indoors locked away in his room, and an inner core of sad kicked puppy that wished it had been born like everyone else, and so was really just a big tender softy once you got past all of the tough outer layers.

Karkat's new home was not one that very obviously appeared to house a child, or any living thing for that matter. It  was not filled with comfortable furniture, the smell of freshly baked cookies, or boxes of toys. It was  filled with shelves upon shelves of books based in horror or mystery, a few giant paintings of brooding relatives, dimly lit lamps, dark plush rugs, hard cold tile, and silence. Inside Karkat's room fit his small, yet surprisingly comfortable bed fitted with dark, thick blankets and a single pillow, and his desk, which was covered in books,  small knick-knacks, and a laptop computer fitted specially for his condition, and in any case was really only used in place of a TV so that he could watch movies. Unfortunately, his bed was  pushed up against the wall marred by a window facing the neighbor's house, and it was too heavy for Karkat to move. It stayed there, cause asking for help with something so trivial wasn't really something he did.

Karkat, besides having the career at the age of 7 of detesting life, enjoyed some aspects of happiness. He just found it in places the average person would rather not think about.

He learned to enjoy the darkness, reading the thick books scattered throughout his old house more times than he could count, and turning to scanning the web when he'd run out and was not up for another go at one he'd already read. He developed a crude vocabulary to match his temper, and he practiced its use by the hour until it became commonplace on his tongue.

Karkat had just moved into the house on  the left with his frequently absent, hard working parental units a few days ago, and tended to the dark house with only the companionship of his pet Siamese cat named Lusus. The first few days were mercifully silent, allowing him the  time to adjust to his new living arrangements and get in some valuable reading time with some new books he'd ordered online.   
Fortunately, his isolation did not last as forever as he'd hoped.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, John shows up to meet his new neighbor and Karkat fusses about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I think I'm really kind of pushing it with the dialogue, but I needed them to sound like kids XI  
> And Karkat's dialogue is pretty clear cause he actually knows what he's saying.

Karkat's carefully compiled silence was broken. Someone had rudely interrupted his quiet time by ringing the overzealously voiced doorbell. Over and over again. And they would not stop. There was little thought put into his next decision, it was made rather quickly and with justified precision. They must die.

Karkat grumpily tossed his short stubby legs over the side of his bed, carefully discarding his thick tomb of god-knows-what and scurrying quickly down the stairs to the front door. He threw it open with a bang (about as loud as he could get, considering his diminutive muscle mass compared to the massiveness of his front door) and bellowed in a high, childishly arrogant and whiny voice,  "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?"

A small young boy clad in a pair of wrinkled khaki shorts that appeared to be in need of a good laundering, limbs peppered with colorful band-aids that contrasted with his white, slightly tanned skin, feet squashed into too-big blue and yellow galoshes, and a blue wind-sock tucked on to the top of his head grinned maniacally at him with flushed cheeks through the doorway, unaffected by the vulgarity of Karkat's greeting. The boy seemed to vibrate, whether it was his feet shifting his weight back and forth or his arms swinging, he never seemed to stop moving. He performed a strange little hop before speaking in a high, sing-song lilting voice, "Hullo, my name'th John! What'th your'th?" His eyes sparkled and his smile radiated warmth and friendship, the lisp originating from the buck teeth protruding from his gums past his lips, not that he seemed to notice.

Karkat stared at this specimen of everything he loathed bunched together into one being with a look of incredulous disbelief etched on to his face. The boy, John, tilted his head a bit and clapped his hands behind his back, the breeze gently tossing the stray black locks of hair peeking out from under his unusual head adornment.

Karkat blinked once, his expression frozen, and promptly slammed the door shut. He moved to return to his room to finish his book, but he hadn't taken two steps before the doorbell began screaming bloody murder. Whirling around in a building rage, Karkat stomped forward and threw open the door once more.

"GO AWA-AARGHBLUTHFSHUPUF!" John tackled Karkat down to the entryway's plush rug, crouching over him with a small squirt-gun aimed at his face. John smirked playfully, plopping down on to Karkat's chest, causing him to wheeze painfully.

"You'ah under 'retht for, uhhh...bein' a grumpy thour pooth 'oo doethn't thay' hi to hith neighborth and wait'th fir 'em to thow up n'den-" John giggled at himself, failing at looking menacing while prodding Karkat's ruddy red cheek with the tip of the little gun, which was leaking haphazardly all over the floor from a small crack in its side.

"BLARGHFSHMERTZ-GET OFFA ME YOU IGNORANT SQUID'S ASS!" Karkat writhed on the floor beneath his attacker, arms pinned to his sides by the boy's legs. John, effectively ignoring Karkat's distress and choice words, became distracted by the candy corn colored horns budding from Karkat's head. His eyes widened and he reached forward tentatively, fingertips brushing their tips. "Woah..." he breathed, slightly stroking Karkat's fake horns. Karkat stopped struggling for a moment to catch his breath, shaking his head to dislodge the boys grubby hands and stray water droplets that were tickling down his neck. The boy was like a fucking rock for crying out loud! Of course, Karkat's lack of physical activities might have contributed to his weakness at the moment, but he would never admit that. Karkat glared up at the thankfully shorter child and snarled,

"What do you want, you crazy pubescent brat! GET OFF!" Karkat wiggled some more and managed to kick his knee up high enough to jab John in the back. John squealed and lurched forward, narrowly missing Karkat's face with the gun as he reflexively shot his hands forward to catch himself. Karkat took advantage of their new close proximity to jerk upward and head butt John in the face, causing him to jump back slightly then slowly roll off, dazed and moaning, or cooing, it was hard to tell.

Karkat sat up, rubbing his forehead gently and glowering at the pile of limbs sprawled out next to him. Thinking quickly for someone who had just bashed their head into something of equal density, Karkat confiscated the gun and stood up to roll the nasty little creature out through the doorway as fast as possible.

John blinked slowly, trying to figure out why the world was spinning, and felt the bump of the doorway pinch his side before he toppled over on to the rough sidewalk in front of the door. Karkat sniffed haughtily at the stunned child sprawled on his doorstep, blinking dazedly and mumbling incoherently, and turned to go back inside. He turned to grab the door and glanced at the object of his new found hatred and slammed the door again before heading back to his book in peace. "Crazy ass neighborhood and it's crazy ass stupid little punks..."

John lay there for what seemed like hours. Not because he was still dazed, but because there were these real pretty butterflies fluttering around the plant things lining the side of the house, and they passed over him, hopping from one bush to the other. It was mesmerizing.

Karkat skimmed his reading material, still half-way irritated at the earlier interruption and not yet ready to calm down.

Lusus, his cat, meowed and prowled around on the bed, rubbing its cheek on his shoulder before hopping down gracefully and exiting the room. Karkat noted this as insignificant until the cat meowed again, right outside his door. He absentmindedly glanced at his door before continuing his read, then got up with a frustrated groan when the cat yeowled and pranced around outside his door. "What the fuck do you want? I can't have any peace at ALL!" Karkat grouched and whined but followed his faithful companion back down the stairs. In passing the front door on the way to the kitchen to obviously feed his fat ass cat, Karkat heard noises from the other side of the door.

"You'aw tho pretteee, oh tho pretteee, you'ah tho pretty and witty and REALLY AWETHOME!" John's voice got higher and higher and ended with a slightly lower roar that dissolved into more giggles, and Karkat stopped by the door, a pained look on his face. "The stupid douchebag  is still here?" Karkat stepped forward and pulled open the door, his cat calmly sitting off to the side watching him. John lay where he had left him, staring up at the sky, hands flailing above him in a strange sort of conductors choreography. Karkat stood staring at him for a few moments, wondering when he was going to notice that the front door was open again. John continued to sing off-key, throwing his arms about and trying to catch the purple-black butterflies taunting him from above.

"You. Away from my door. Now." Karkat leaned against the door frame, trying to look intimidating despite his age and size. John looked towards him, eyes widening in surprise. He grinned and scrambled to his feet, a red mark still apparent on his forehead from their earlier collision.

"Hi ag'in! You wanna play with me now? Oh, but I thtill don't know you'ah name yet," John used the puppy face again, glittering eyes and all, and inched forward in tiny steps, hands tucked behind his back once more. Karkat glowered, arms crossed, but his temper didn't flare quite as high as it did before. "No. Now go away." John's smile wilted a little this time, and he scuffed his toe against the ground, his hands gripping hard behind his back. His wind-sock hat fluttered in the small breeze, making him look ridiculous, and Karkat put on a slightly bemused expression. "W-well...can I have my toy back then?" John looked a bit like a kicked puppy this time, and even Karkat's thickened hide couldn't resist a tiny bit of cuteness contamination.

Karkat remembered the squirtgun, and realized he had stuck it in his back pocket. Feeling stupid and realizing that the gun had a leak, he reached behind him nonchalantly and felt his pocket. It was wet. And the spot was large. How much water was in there anyway?

Blushing in humiliation, Karkat scowled and began closing the door again, "No! Now go away before I set my guard dog on you!" John sniffled, eyes welling up in unshed tears as he continued staring at Karkat. Karkat winced, and realized that this kid was a first-class manipulator with a hide made of rubber. He'd used several tactics to try to get him out of the house, first by being polite, then by using force, and now he was using dirty tricks. It probably wouldn't do him any good to deny him much longer. Who knows what he would do next? He might steal his cat for ransom or something. Not that he would pay. But still, it would be inconvenient.

Karkat shuddered, but gave in to the boys manipulation. He glared at him for a moment before growling, "Fine. I'll play with you gogdammit. And if you have to, I suppose you may call me the....uhhh...Sufferer! Just let me change first so I don't get slimey grub shit all over my good clothes." Not that he had good clothes. He just needed an excuse to change his pants. And the name belonged to his favorite character, his hero who united the world and saved damsels and stuff. He's a pretty sweet dude.

John shrieked in victory, punching the air and performing his lucky dance, which made his hat twirl quite ridiculously. Karkat sighed and debated on closing the door and leaving him out there. John finished his dance before he could decide and tumbled into the door, rolling over Karkat's toes and into the front hall. He came to a stop sitting up, legs akimbo, and looked at his surroundings in awe.

Karkat cursed under his breath, flexing his wounded toes before shutting the door and stomping up the stairs to his room. He paused half-way up and turned towards the still idle boy child examining the front entryway. "Don't. Touch. Anything. If anything breaks or ends up disappearing, I will personally gut you and make a cello out of your stinking carcass. So yeah, don't do anything stupid.." John smiled at him in response and rolled around on the rug, yelping when his skin touched the cold wet spots from earlier.

Lusus purred and followed Karkat up to his room, positively pleased with itself. Karkat turned to shut his door and glared at his cat. Traitor. He then began the delicate process of exchanging his clothes with those in his closet. He froze with his shirt two thirds of the way over his head when he heard a thump and a yelp from below. Ah shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, don't know if I like it this way or not, but it's like, really late. It early. My brains not functioning proper I suppose~ but I feel like I needed to post this. Sorry for any crap that has bypassed my foggy filters, I might get around to fixing it. At some point.


End file.
